Cheng Xinzhan immersed himself in the mysteries of the Grand Unity Light-Splitting Sword Art, and another seven days passed in the blink of an eye.
When he closed the final page, the golden book in his hands burst into flame on its own. The flames did not burn his hands, but they consumed the book completely.
Cheng Xinzhan was not surprised. This was what it meant by not allowing the art to be passed on.
"How marvelous!"
He marveled at this art, thinking that Emei truly had no equal in the world when it came to mastery of flying swords.
He already understood most of how to cultivate this art. What remained was deeper contemplation and diligent practice, comprehending the way of gathering and combining, and grasping the feel of splitting swords into threads.
If he could reach Ye Yuanjing's realm of producing myriad sword threads, he could consider the art fully mastered.
In cultivation, some things could not be delayed, while others could not be rushed. Practicing this art, which demanded the finest precision, belonged to the latter category.
Cheng Xinzhan adjusted his state of mind and set the matter aside for the moment. Then he focused again and took out the wind dew he had collected the other night.
He shook the palm-sized Dew-Receiving Bottle. Water sloshed inside, and from the sound, there was very little.
It truly had not been easy to obtain.
Now that he was going to refine the wind dew, he hung a "In seclusion. Do not disturb" sign outside his door. To be safe, even here in the Western Sichuan Sword Pavilion, he took out some command flags and talismans and set up a formation specifically inside the meditation chamber to prevent interruptions and prying.
He also released both his flying swords, placing